


least is the best thing i am

by kingsofneon



Series: horny reading list [15]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Horses, M/M, Marco's not technically dead but he is MIA presumed dead, which is why I used major character death as a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28040982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofneon/pseuds/kingsofneon
Summary: (But that was the awful thing. The word 'presumed'. MIA was almost worst than certainly dead - at least death left no recourse.)
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace (Implied), Portgas D. Ace/Sabo
Series: horny reading list [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641943
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	least is the best thing i am

Ace always wears his ring.

Solid silver against his dark skin or half-obscured by reins, he's always got it on - and Sabo could never forget that ever-present band. Ace _always_ wears his ring.

Which is why it's such a shock to see Ace fighting to get it off, listing to the side and catching his balance with his shoulder against the barn. Sabo hurries forward, unable to stop his concern, and grabs Ace's hands in his own to stop him fighting his wedding ring.

"What are you doing?" he asks, half a snap, but Ace looks up at him with tear-filled eyes and the tinge of alcohol on his breath, and Sabo feels his anger drain away. "Ace, what are you doing?"

Ace gestures with his left hand, pulling Sabo's arm out with him. "It's stuck," he says mournfully, and drags his hand back in again, trying in vain to get away from Sabo's grip so he could keep trying to pull the ring off. "It's stuck and I hate it and it's not- I don't need it. Everybody knows what happened. Everybody- everybody knows."

Everybody knows that Marco is dead. That he's never coming back and Ace has to run their farm by himself, alone on miles of property. Everybody knows that he's missing, presumed dead, because the rest of Marco's division is just gone, gone, _gone._

(But that was the awful thing. The word 'presumed'. MIA was almost worst than certainly dead - at least death left no recourse.)

"And you want to forget him?" Sabo asks, and Ace bares his teeth at the very inclination, finally focused on rage instead of grief. Sabo knows how to handle rage - he's been with Ace his whole life, and Ace has always been a ball of anger.

But grief? To watch Ace's heart rip itself to shreds and know he can do nothing? To watch Ace lovelove _love_ so strongly, so utterly, that it's killing him?

He's not a selfless man. He doesn’t want to see Ace grieving.

He doesn’t want Ace to grieve someone who isn't him.

"Fuck you," Ace spits, but he's leaning in, curling in, and tangles his hands in Sabo's sweaty shirt. Sabo brings his arms around Ace, guiltily relishing the warmth, and tries not to heave a heavy sigh. He knows how this goes, now. When Ace is drunk enough not to care, but sober enough to know what he wants. To forget. To pretend. To sink into someone's arms and take a moment to believe he's not alone.

(And doesn't it make Sabo's heart ache, that he's been here for months, and Ace still wanders the house like a ghost? Rides his horse out to check on the stock but doesn't come back for days, till Sabo starts to worry he's aiming for an MIA too. That Ace keeps thinking he's alone, even with Sabo here? He's bitter, to think that, but at least the bitterness reminds him, in times like this, that Ace in his arms, begging for his bed, is nothing.)

"Are you-" he asks, and _sure_ lingers in his throat, like a rock, swelling to a stop. How could he ask and get a no? Hear Ace say for certain that he didn't _want_ him, just wants what he can offer? This is double-edged, now, and it’s his own slip of the tongue that set him up for it. The last time Ace had said _fuck you_ and Sabo had laughed and snarled and said _would that make it better?_

_Th_ is time Ace gives him a crooked smile. "You're my best friend. Who else?"

Who else but his husband, whispers Sabo's traitorous mind, and he swallows the rock and gives in to the last ditch effort. "I love you," he whispers, knowing the word is enough to scare Ace away, _wanting_ to scare Ace away, unwilling to take another night of this, but Ace leans in, in, in, and brushes their lips together, so soft, barely touching. So that when he speaks Sabo can feel him saying the words, know that it's not just his imagination.

"I love you too."

And he sighs, and gives in, because he can’t fight this, has never fought what Ace wanted when Ace wanted _him,_ and he slides Ace’s hands to his chest and kisses back. 

"You know," Ace whispers, a deviation when usually he would just start nipping at Sabo's neck, trying to rile him up till Sabo no longer had the strength to say no. "Marco-" (and there's the hitch. When he says Marco's name it crops up, an avalanche of memories in a single pause.) "Marco said you were allowed. If I was lonely. If you wanted to fill in. That's why I- but I- this isn't just 'cause you're the only one here. I can hear you thinking. And I need to know- you _know_ that, don't you?"

Sabo's eyes go wide at the desperation in Ace's tone. It's not new, the tone, but the words-

"I know," he says, but Ace has always been able to catch him in a lie. Ace pulls back, swaying, eyes narrowed.

"You're not his replacement," Ace says. "You're not second-best."

"Aren't I?" Sabo mumbles,

"Idiot," he says, more a curse than fond, but his hands are so gentle and his eyes are so sad as he traces Sabo's jawline. "You're important to me. How could you ever be anyone's replacement?"

Sabo looks away, and Ace's fingers press against his cheek; force him to look into the steel grey flint of Ace's eyes. "You can't replace him, but I don't want you to. Why can't I-" and there's the anger, back again, grief lending it fuel. "I'm allowed to move on! To be happy, to _love_ , fucking _damnit_! And you keep acting like- acting like I'm not _choosing_ you, every time. Fucking- _yeah_. Yeah this hurts. Yeah it fucking _sucks_ and I want him here and I want things to be better but it's not and I just to get to live with that and _at least I have you._ "

Ace sags into his arms, exhaustion wringing him dry, and Sabo’s words are stuck in his throat. “At least I have you,” Ace whispers, and Sabo thinks about the wedding band, cold against his cheek as Ace leans in to kiss him again. 

(He wasn’t enough the first time; why does Ace think he’ll be enough now?)

**Author's Note:**

> review or unfortunately i have to call u a coward (and that's a big F)


End file.
